


La Douleur Paisible

by willoffire123



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Hurt Dick Grayson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26380747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willoffire123/pseuds/willoffire123
Summary: As Dick copes with the aftermath of Granny's X-Pit, he can't help but wonder why it always takes him landing in a hospital bed for his family to speak to each other.Set after "Unknown Factors"
Relationships: Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Kon-El | Conner Kent, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Comments: 8
Kudos: 128





	1. Cowsit in the Moonlight

Bruce was tired.

The past year had been so exhausting. When he became Batman, he gave no thought to fighting aliens, or saving meta-humans from human traffickers, or anything involving the world outside of Gotham, really.

A cry of pain from the bed next to his tiny plastic chair made him glance sadly at its occupant.

When he became Batman, Bruce certainly had no intention of bringing children into this world-into _his_ world.

Now he had three of them (dead or not, Jason would always be his kid; Bruce was very adamant about this), and his eldest was currently writhing in pain because he had tried doing his part to save meta-children from human traffickers like Granny Goodness.

Dick cried out in his sleep and the spine of the book Bruce was holding snapped. The next time he saw Granny Goodness, he swore he’d shove her stupid Overlord so far up her-

But no, that wouldn’t do him or Dick any good right now; all he could do was sit there and gently stroke his son’s dark, sweaty hair as he cried.

“D-dad,” Dick gasped in his sleep. Bruce’s heart clenched. Dick was 20 now; he rarely ever stayed at the manor anymore, and when he did, it was usually to visit his little brother. Bruce hadn’t helped Dick through a nightmare since he was 15.

Dick hadn’t called him dad since he was 13…

Bruce tried in vain to stop the flow of tears streaming down Dick’s face. He hated not being able to get rid of his pain, but if Dick didn’t stop moaning he’d wake-

Too late. There was a rustling noise at the foot of Dick’s bed as Tim stirred from his position curled up by his big brother’s feet.

“Is he…?” Tim said sleepily.

“Not awake yet,” Bruce said sadly, “Go back to sleep, Tim; I’ll let you know when there’s a change.”

Careful not to disturb Dick’s ice packs, Tim slipped off the bed and into a waiting chair.

“Bruce, you look tired. I can take over if you want to go take a nap,” he wrinkled his nose and gave Bruce a shy smile, “Or a shower.”

Bruce gave him a good-natured shove. “Look at you, making jokes. Dick would be so proud.”

Tim fiddled absently with Dick’s fingers “Yeah…”

That shut him up again.

Bruce reached over and gave his youngest a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. “This isn’t your fault, Tim.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Tim’s brilliantly blue eyes, “I should’ve been there.”

“You know Dick would never have brought you on such a dangerous mission,” Bruce said gently, “Besides, you would most likely be just as sick as he is right now, had you have gone with them.”

“And Jeff?” Tim finally looked up at his adoptive father, “He was there and he’s fine! And if he’s right…”

“If he’s right, then he and Dick would’ve never needed to go on this highly illegal op and Dick wouldn’t be sick,” Bruce picked up, “Is that what you’re thinking?”

Tim’s silence was enough of a yes for Bruce to beckon him closer. Tim scooched his chair next to his dad’s.

Bruce wrapped a comforting arm around his youngest’s shoulders. “He’s going to be ok, chum, and you and I will sit here until he wakes up to whine about what’s wrong with him.”

Tim giggled a little and Bruce’s heart soared at the sound, “Dick’s never been one to complain, you know that.”

“H-he has a point, Bruce.”

Tim shot to his feet, “Dick!”

Bruce grasped his son’s clammy, cold hand, “How are you feeling?”

Dick made a choked, gagging noise. Seconds later Bruce and Tim had to help Dick roll over to empty the meager contents of his stomach into a pink, plastic bin. “Does that answer your question?” he coughed faintly.

“Right,” Tim gulped, “Not ok.”

Dick felt, more so than saw, Bruce wiping his sweaty forehead with a damp cloth. “Y-you know you d-don’t have to s-stay here.”

Bruce could read between the lines, _“I don’t want you to see me like this.”_

“Not a chance,” Tim said firmly, “Besides, Barbara would kill me; she only let Alfred take her home if I promised to stay with you for the night.”

“You cowsit in the moonlight?” asked Dick.

Tim gulped, “Bruce…?”

“You cowsit in the moonlight!” Dick said again, more insistently. He looked at Bruce with dark, blue eyes filled with terror.

“Tim,” Bruce said with an air of forced calmness, “Go get Dr. Jace.”

Tim had never been one to question Batman’s orders, but now he stood frozen in fear, completely ignoring Bruce.

“Timmy…” Dick slurred before his eyes rolled back in his head and with a scream, he jerked, violently. His ice packs hit the floor with a crash, scattering ice in every direction.

“Tim, now!” shouted Bruce.

“No need,” said Dr. Jace, rushing into the room, “What’s going on?”

“H-he was saying nonsense,” Tim said shakily, “Now this.”

“He’s having a grand mal seizure,” Dr. Jace decided, “Mr. Wayne, get me 2 mg of lorazepam, now!”

Bruce lunged for the medicine cabinet while Tim helped Dr. Jace turn his brother onto his side. Dick flailed and moaned until Dr. Jace jabbed a syringe into the tube in his arm. The boy gave a shuddering sigh, and collapsed back against his pillows.

“Any idea what could’ve caused the seizure?” Batman asked Dr. Jace.

“If I knew more about Granny’s X-Pit, then maybe…” the good doctor murmured as she laid Nightwing back against his hospital bed, “Unless the pit gave him a seizure disorder or a tumor, that should not happen again. Be prepared; he will be very confused when he wakes up.”

Bruce shot a glance at Tim. “We’ll sit with him, Doctor; I promise we’ll let you know if Dick gets worse.”

“Let me know if he gets better, too,” Dr. Jace said on her way out the door, “Dick’s a good kid; I want to see him lucid.”

Robin sank gingerly back into his chair, “I don’t know if I can take much more of this.”

Batman gently brushed the hair off his eldest son’s clammy forehead, “Me neither, kid, me neither.”


	2. The Flying Graysons

Y.O.U.N.G. J.U.S.T.I.C.E

Dick is cold.

He is lots of other things too, of course; cold just seemed to be more important than anything else. He feels frost seeping into his bones, making him achy and exhausted. Shadows dance around him in haunting circles. Why is it so dark? He can hardly see anything.

Wait, that’s wrong; he sees the shadows descending on him.

_Hey! You’re Wayne’s kid, aint’cha?_

_Looks like the gypsy brat’s all grown up. The boss is gonna love this._

_What’s wrong with the freak?_

_Who cares? We’re gonna be rich!_

One of them is clutching something that glints sharply in the darkness. Dick gasps as the object leaves a trail of fire across his face.

Scrambling backwards, Dick bolts away from the shadows. He thought he was making good progress until he runs into a solid mass that grabs him and throws him to the ground. Dick hits the ground hard. He hears harsh laughter surrounding him once again and he curls up into a ball. Everything hurts so much; if he stops moving, then maybe the pain will go away and the noises will let him sleep.

God, he’s so miserable.

He wishes Wally were here.

Obnoxiously loud noises erupt all around him. Someone is sobbing. It’s just. too. _loud_.

“Shhh, Dickie, you’re alright.”

Strong, warm hands try valiantly to pull Dick to his feet as Dick realizes that he’s the one crying his eyes out.

“C’mon, Dickie-Bird, can you stand for me?”

Dick feels himself propped upright before his world of darkness goes white, and he collapses against those strong, warm arms.

“Ok, Dick, it’s ok,” the voice says softly in his ear. The voice is soft, and soothing, and most importantly, trusting.

Dick allows those strong, warm arms to pick him up and cradle him against their owner’s broad chest.

“Geez, Dickie, when did you get so heavy?”

The voice smells like rain and an oddly-calming mixture of cigarette smoke and gunpowder. Dick sighs and relaxes into its arms.

“Woah, big guy, I need you to stay with me, ok? At least until I figure out where you came from and what’s wrong with you.”

The voice is so achingly familiar that Dick feels compelled to try. The world shudders into hazy, rainy focus. He can’t really see the face of the man that’s holding him; it’s obscured by the red hood of his soft, fleecy sweatshirt.

“That’s better,” says the voice, giving Dick an encouraging squeeze, “Now, can you tell me where to drop you off?”

That, Dick cannot do. Even the prospect of making noise makes his stomach churn and his head spin. If he were even somewhat lucid, he’d have so many questions. Where was he? How did he get there? And who was holding him?

“Shit, goldilocks, are you deaf? I said no sleeping! I swear to God if you faint in my arms, I will put a bullet where the sun don’t shine!”

Even the stranger’s gruff irritation isn’t enough to pull him back to a somewhat lucid state. The stranger’s hooded face is already blurring. Dick feels the gentle rocking suddenly stop. His bare feet brush against something that feels hard and rough, and his world explodes in pain. The stranger yells at him some more, but Dick is too far gone to care.

His world has already faded to gray.

Y.O.U.N.G J.U.S.T.I.C.E

Tim is standing off to the side of Jeff and Kaldur’s argument, trying his hardest to look inconspicuous next to Barbara, when they all hear the crash from Dick’s room. Bruce, Conner and Kaldur charge into the infirmary, Tim, Barbara and the others following warily behind. Alfred is wringing his hands nervously as he peers out a large hole in the glass wall overlooking Gotham.

“Alfred!” Batman barked, “Where’s Dick?”

In response, Alfred wordlessly points out the hole.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tim sees Barbara throw her head in her hands, “I never should’ve left.”

“I’m afraid Master Dick was quite disoriented when he awoke,” Alfred says shakily, “I believe he saw me as an assailant, and made his escape through the window.”

“Seizure patients often fall into something called a postictal state after experiencing a seizure,” Dr. Jace murmurs, “It’s kind of like sleep walking. I think Alfred’s right; it’s highly possible that in his postictal state, Nightwing saw Alfred as a threat and broke through the window to escape.”

Conner curses through his teeth, “We’re 50 stories up!”

“Gear up and fan out” orders Batman, already, somehow, in uniform, “In his state, Nightwing couldn’t have gotten far. M’Gann, link us up.”

 _“Alright,”_ says M’Gann, _“We’re good to go.”_

 _“Wait a second,”_ says Gar, _“We’re not done yet-“_

Jeff puts a hand on the green boy’s shoulder, _“You’re right; we’re nowhere near done yet. But Nightwing is sick and probably hurt after that fall. We can put this on pause until we find him.”_

Tim shoots Black Lightning a grateful smile.

 _“What are we waiting for,”_ grunts Conner, _“Let’s go get Dick.”_

Conner dives out the window. M’Gann flies hastily after him, all while muttering _“He knows he can’t fly…”_

Barbara grabs Tim’s hand, “Keep your comm open? Maybe I can help talk him down when you find him.”

Tim is already slipping on his domino mask, “You don’t seem all that worried.”

Barbara gulps and releases Tim’s hand, “Believe me, I am. There’s no telling if he even survived that fall. But worrying out loud won’t solve anything.”

 _“Robin, let’s go,”_ Batman says impatiently.

“We’ll cover more ground if we split up,” Tim insists, waving Bruce out the window, “I’ll be out in a moment.”

Tim gives Barbara a reassuring smile before leaving her with this comforting thought, “He survived the fall, Babs; he is, after all, a Flying Grayson.”


	3. Lightning in the Rain

Y.O.U.N.G J.U.S.T.I.C.E

Jeff is pissed.

He’s pissed that Batman went behind the League’s back and he’s pissed that the people he trusted would betray him and the League so badly.

But most of all, he’s pissed that he’s too worried about Nightwing to be mad at the kid for bringing him on a highly dangerous and illegal op that nearly got the both of them killed. Nightwing reminded him so much of some of his favorite students at Garfield High-the real earnest ones who always did their best to please their parents. Jeff knows he needs to find Dick and help him; he can be mad at him later when he’s safe and healing. 

_“There’s a reported sighting of some of Black Mask’s gang in an alley off 32 nd Street,” _Batman says over the mind link.

Jeff flinches; even after working with J’onn, he’s still not used to the Martians’ telepathic powers.

 _“I’m a block away,”_ he says through the link, _“I’ll check it out and let you know.”_

Straining his ears, Jeff picks up what sounds like voices coming from the alley at the end of the street. The rain drowns out the voices too much for him to be able to discern how many of them there are or if Dick is with them, so he jogs to the end of the street.

“Woah.”

He can’t help himself; the alley is filled with bodies. Jeff counts 7 in total. A boy in a red, Gotham Knights sweatshirt with a matching domino mask is the only one still standing. The boy in the sweatshirt staggers towards the street, clearly struggling under the weight of the body in his arms. He stops in his tracks when he notices Jeff.

“Hey kid,” Jeff says carefully-the boy looks like he’s maybe a little younger than Dick, “Do you know what happened here?”

The kid takes a step back, “Same thing that’ll happen to you if you don’t back. the fuck. off.”

The kid brushes against the brick wall next to them, and the body in his arms cries out in pain.

Jeff starts towards the two very alive people in front of him, only for the kid to growl at him.

“Did I stutter?”  
Jeff holds his ground because now he can see that the kid is cradling the missing Dick Grayson against his chest. The mysterious kid curls protectively around Dick’s unconscious form, visibly snarling at Jeff before glancing down at Dick.

“Dick, what the FUCK did I say about sleeping?!?!?” he shakes Nightwing twice, but Dick remains unresponsive.

“You seem to know Dick pretty well,” Jeff says as calmly as he can; this kid didn’t seem too stable, “You want to help him, don’t you?”

The kid’s eyes narrow behind his domino mask, “What’s it to you?”

Jeff summons a ball of electricity. The kid snarls again and takes a step back, making Jeff dismiss his powers, “Woah woah, easy! I’m just showing you that I’m with the League. I’m here to help you.”

The kid doesn’t move. Jeff is sure that if it wasn’t raining so hard, he’d be able to hear his own heart threatening to beat straight out of his chest. Dick is frighteningly pale beneath the blood covering his face. Even from so far away, Jeff can see Dick’s leg bent at an alarmingly wrong angle.

He needs to hurry and get Nightwing back to Dr. Jace.

“Look, kid, Dick needs help and I’m offering it. Shouldn’t that be good enough for you?”

Before the kid can answer, Jeff notices one of the previously-downed men in in the alley loom over his shoulder. Jeff curses and throws a bolt of electricity at the assailant. The air goes white for a second and the kid swears like a sailor.

When the air clears, the kid, and Dick, are nowhere to be found.

 _“I lost him,”_ Jeff says in disbelief.

 _“You did WHAT?”_ Batman snaps far too loudly for Jeff’s taste.

 _“Cool it, Bats,”_ Black Lightning says angrily, _“We’re still on thin ice, you and me.”_

 _“What happened?”_ asks Aquaman.

 _“Some kid had Dick when I found him,”_ Jeff says reluctantly as he goes around checking the other bodies on the ground to see if they’re alive. None of them are. _“Looks like Black Mask’s thugs were harassing Dick and the kid took them out. Told him I was with the League, but he didn’t believe me. One of the guys he failed to kill tried attacking him again. I knocked the attacker out but it spooked the kid and he ran off with Dick.”_

 _“What did the kid look like?”_ asks Gar, _“If he cared enough to take Nightwing then he must know him somehow.”_

Jeff chuckles to himself, _“Yeah, he knew him, alright. Super protective; acted like I was the one who was gonna hurt him. The kid had dark, spiky hair, a red hoodie, black, leather pants, and a red domino mask. Swore like a sailor, too.”_

 _“That’s not possible…”  
“What was that, Conner?” _asks Halo, _“What is not possible?”_

 _“It’s nothing,”_ Batman growls, _“Keep looking.”_


	4. how are you not dead?

Y.O.U.N.G J.U.S.T.I.C.E

Tim is worried.

The rain pounds mercilessly on his decidedly not-water proof uniform as he sprints across the rooftops, scanning them and the streets below frantically for signs of his brother. Tim is a crime fighter. Tim grew up in a family of crime fighters; dealing with broken bones and gore is second nature to him.

An image flashes in his head of Dick seizing on a hospital gurney.

Illness is something that terrifies Tim. There’s nothing that he can punch into fixing the fact that Dick is vulnerable and alone in the rain.

Well, maybe not alone. Jefferson’s description of the red hoodie is scarily familiar; Tim knows exactly what Conner was thinking and he agrees with him; it isn’t possible.

…is it?

_Dick unable to form coherent sentences._

_Dick flailing and moaning on a hospital gurney._

_Dick dying alone in the rain._

Ugh, fine. Tim supposes it wouldn’t hurt to check. Changing course, Robin veers off towards Crime Alley.

It’s time to pay Jason Todd’s old apartment a visit.

Robin has been to Crime Alley enough times to know to stick to the shadows. He thinks he hears gunshots and shouts off in the near distance, but he ignores them; he’s found his target: a ratty apartment above a bar called _The Foxy Inn._

“Ok, Jason,” Tim says to himself as he sets to work on the grimy padlock over the neon door, “Let’s see if you’ve risen from the dead.”

“Jason, huh?”

Conner dodges the bird-a-rang that Tim lobs at his jugular.

“Superboy!” Tim exclaims, “What the hell? Were you following me?”

“No!” Conner says hotly, “I thought of Jason, just like you did! I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell the team that you might’ve found Dick.”

Tim glances around nervously, “Keep your voice down, will you? This is exactly why I wanted to come to Crime Alley alone; you and the others aren’t exactly inconspicuous.”

Conner scoffs, “And Batman? Why isn’t he here?”

With a soft click, the door creaks open. “If he really is alive, I wanted to find Jason first,” Tim says as they creep their way up the tattered, wooden stairs, “I don’t want to get Batman’s hopes up if it’s a dead end.” Tim only knows about this place from overhearing a conversation between Dick and Jason; the middle brother never really liked Tim enough to entrust him with details of his life before he met Batman. The two boys stop at the only door on the second floor. Before Tim can even think of picking the locks on this one too, the door flies open and he’s met with a mop of shaggy black hair and a set of wild, blue eyes.

“Jason…” gasps Tim, eyes wide with amazement, “It’s really you.”

“Congrats, Replacement,” drawls Jason Todd, “You found me. Now come inside; you’re letting in a draft.”

Jason’s former apartment is about as dilapidated as one can expect, what with him having moved to Wayne Manor 6 years prior. A rickety wooden table sits next to an old, moth-eaten mattress. Dick is curled up under a thin, ratty blanket. Tim rushes to him.

“Jason,” Conner greets him amicably, “It’s good to see you.”

“Conner,” Jason nodds, “You don’t seem all that surprised to see me.”

“Believe me, I am,” Conner assures him as the two sit at Jason’s table, “I’ve gotten much better at prioritizing since you died.”

Jason sighs, “You mean Big Bird here takes priority,” he gets to his feet to join Tim by their brother’s bedside, “You’re right, of course. Someone want to tell me what’s wrong with him?”

Robin only vaguely listens to Superboy recounting everything from the Light to the meta-human trafficking to Granny Goodness; he’s too busy taking care of Nightwing. Dick looks even worse then he had before he escaped. Jason seems to have tried to dry him off, but Dick is still soaked through his thin shirt and sweatpants. His cheeks are flushed and radiating too much heat to be healthy. The IV tube that Dr. Jace had put in his arm is covered in dirt. Warily, Tim notes that the dirty IV is already turning the skin on Dick’s arm yellow. His face is snow white and covered in blood. Tim decides that the blood is coming from an open wound on his temple, and that the blood needs to go. Grabbing a towel off the ground, Tim heads to the grimy sink tucked in the corner.

“How is he?” Conner asks softly.

Robin wrings out the wet towel and returns to Nightwing, “Fever’s back. The dirty IV tube on his arm looks infected. The knife wound to the forehead’s pretty shallow, but won’t stop bleeding. His right leg’s definitely broken and-,” following a hunch, Robin presses slightly on Nightwing’s clavicle. Dick cries out in pain, but remains unconscious. “Yeah, clavicle’s broken too. Maybe also a few ribs.”

Conner shakes his head in disbelief, “I still don’t understand how you guys do that. Dick fell 50 stories; he should be dead right now.”

Jason and Tim share a proud smirk before Jason remembers that he hates Tim and looks away with a huff. Tim can’t help it; he lunges at Jason and, before the older boy can reach for a weapon, wraps his arms around Jason’s broad shoulders and buries his face in his long-lost brother’s chest.

Conner chuckles softly. Jason looks bewildered, but still pats Tim awkwardly on the back. “Uh, there, there?”

A muffled noise comes from Jason’s chest. Jason gently pushes Tim off of him and Tim, now very self-conscious in front of Conner, slides into an open chair, absolutely scarlet with embarrassment.

“What was that, Robin?” Conner asks amusedly.

“I said I’m really glad you’re not dead,” Tim mumbles to his big brother. At this, Jason can’t help but grin. He flicks Tim gently on the forehead and says “It’s gonna take more than the Joker to get rid of me for good, Babybird. Congrats on that, by the way; looks like you finally earned all your nicknames.”

“How are you not still dead, by the way?” Conner asks Jason, “Batman and Nightwing grieved for at least a year after your ‘death’; we never found a good time to ask what happened.” Jason smirks.

“It’s called a Lazarus Pit, and I thought you learned how to prioritize.”

Conner roles his eyes and flicks Jason on the arm. “Ow!”

“Quit being a smartass; I got curious.”

Dick moans loudly, shutting all three of the boys up at once. Jason plops down on the mattress next to his big brother and puts what he hopes is a comforting hand on his shoulder. Dick cries and flinches away from his ressurected brother. The tears from before are streaming down Dick’s face.

“Ok,” Jason says flatly, “I’ll bite. Why the hell is he like this?”

“Long story,” says Conner, joining the older bat brothers on the mattress. He tries to hold Dick’s hand, but the heart-wrenching sob it ellicits from the sick man is enough for Conner to back off. He knows he shouldn’t be hurt that the boy he thought of as his little brother would reject him like that; Dick isn’t well enough to recognize his real brothers, let alone Conner. “The short end is when his infiltration op failed, Granny Goodness tortured him and Black Lightning in an apokalyptian jail called an X-Pit. The affect it has on non-metas is-,” Dick accents Conner’s story with another sob, “pretty bad.”

“We need to get him back to headquarters,” Tim decides, “We don’t have the tools or training to take care of him here. Oracle, are you there?”

_“It’s about time!”_

Jason’s eyes widen at the sound of another old friend, “Is that Barb?”

_“Jason? What the-,”_

“We can explain later,” Tim interjects, “The point is, Jason found Nightwing, and he isn’t doing so hot. We could use some help getting him back to HQ.”

“Unseen, if possible,” Jason pips up, “Black Mask’s goons are all over the place.”

“It’s taken care of,” Conner says calmly. Tim fixes him with a questioning look and Conner shrugs, “You said it yourself; I’m too conspicuous to wander around Crime Alley by myself.”

Tim’s ears pick up on the sounds of fighting outside _The_ _Foxy Inn_ , “M’Gann?” he guesses.

“And Kaldur,” Conner adds with a self-satisfied smirk, “Artemis is even waiting around the corner with her car.”

 _“Small problem with HQ,”_ Barbara says hesitantly, _“Dr. Jace, Halo and the Markovs have all gone missing and before you ask, no, we have no idea how it happened.”_

Conner’s jaw clenches, “Any leads?”

 _“Victor, Beast Boy, Forager and Black Lightning went back to handle it,”_ Barbara assures the boys, _“Batman said if you find Dick to take him to Leslie; we don’t know if HQ’s been compromised.”_

“What about you?”

 _“Barbara and I will meet you at the clinic,”_ Bruce’s gruff voice slid through the mind link.

“What’s going on?” Jason demanded, “Wait, are you doing that stupid mind link thing again? Put me on it! I hate being out of the loop!”

“M’Gann still thinks you’re dead, man,” says Conner, “We’ll fill you in later.”

Tim tries to pull the blanket off Dick so that someone big enough to carry the man could pick him up, but even that simple motion makes Dick howl in pain.

“Dickie, seriously,” Jason hisses, “No one actually knows where I live, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

 _“Guys, we have a problem”_ Conner says over the mind link.

 _“Fantastic,”_ Aqualad grunts. The fighting outside intensifies, _“What kind of problem?”_

 _“Dick won’t let us touch him,”_ Tim says with a hint of fear in his voice.

 _“Then tell him that now isn’t the time for heroics!”_ Artemis snaps, _“He’s clearly hurt and the kids are missing!”_

Tim gulps. He can see thin trails of blood leaking from Dick’s nose and ears and pooling on the mattress underneath.

 _“No,”_ says Conner, _“I mean we literally can’t touch him. Every time we do it hurts him; he’s literally too sensitive.”_

“Screw it!” Jason explodes, “I’m not about to watch Dick die just so I don’t have to face Bruce.”

He scoops up the older boy into his arms as easily as if he were a small kitten. Dick struggles weakly, but Jason holds him fast, making soothing shushing noises until he quiets down somewhat. As the three make their way outside, Conner hears Dick mumble something in a language that he doesn’t recognize. Jason shares a look with Tim.

“Will you stop doing that?” Conner demands, “Fill me in. What’s he saying?”

“My Romanian’s a little rusty on account of me coming back from the dead,” Jason snaps.

“You know it’s Dick’s first language,” Tim says hastily, “We both had to learn it when Bruce adopted us, but my Romanian’s always been terrible.”

The boys spill out onto the street to find that the fight is already over. M’Gann and Kaldur rush to them.

M’Gann sinks back to the ground with tears in her eyes, “Jason…?”

Jason’s smile warms Tim’s heart; tough guy or not, M’Gann’s smiles are always infectious. “Hey Miss M; I love the new look.”

“It is good to see you, my friend,” Kaldur says warmly, clasping Jason on the shoulder, “When the opportunity presents itself, we will have many questions.”

Jason grips Dick tighter, “Yeah yeah, let’s get Dick to the clinic then I’m all yours.”

Y.O.U.N.G J.U.S.T.I.C.E

Dick is drifting.

He can hear the incessant pounding of the rain all around him. He can hear anxious voices hovering around him. He can even hear the agitated breath of whoever’s carrying him.

So why can’t he feel anything?

A hazy face swims into focus. Jason Todd is looking at him with a mixed degree of worry and annoyance. Dick’s heart clenches.

_I must be dead…_

The anxious voices reach a crescendo. Oops, maybe they heard him. Dick’s head is screaming. He knots his fists into Jason’s warm, fleecy hoodie. _Make it stop…_

Dick decides that he must be fading in and out of consciousness, because every time he closes his eyes, something new is happening. Dick blinks, and Artemis is lying him on something soft and leathery.

_Oh, Dick. What the hell have you gotten yourself into this time?_

Dick wants so badly to tell her that he has no idea, but he’s already fading. He blinks again, and Conner and Kaldur are talking in hushed, worried voices above him.

_Dr. Jace did?_

_Yes, the Markovs escaped Granny’s mind control. Unfortunately, Halo is still under her influence._

_Shit._

_We will join the rescue mission once Dick is safe._

Pain bubbles up Dick’s throat, preventing him from screaming at Kaldur. The kids were in trouble; why were they wasting their time with him? He blinks again, and his brothers are pulling him back into the rain.

_He spat up blood in the car._

_At Jason’s, I assesed a broken clavicle, an infection in the left arm, a knife wound to the forehead, a broken right leg, and two cracked ribs. Before he went into a postictal state and escaped, he had a seizure due to excessive brain-swelling. We don’t know why, but we think it was caused by the X-Pit._

He blinks once more, and M’Gann’s glowing green eyes are boring into his.

_Someone hold him down!_

_Pressure’s dropping._

_M’Gann!_

_It’s alright, Dick, we’ve got you._

He blinks no more.


	5. Cotton Brain

Y.O.U.N.G J.U.S.T.I.C.E

_He looks good bald._

_You don’t have to lie; he can’t hear you._

_I’m sure it’ll grow back quickly._

He wakes to the taste of cotton in his mouth and oppressively bright, flourescent lights shining in his face. He winces at the brightness.

“Dick?”

Barbara gently cups his chin, “Can you hear me?”

He hums what he hopes is a yes. With a shuddering groan, he opens his eyes. Barbara and Tim are sitting over him, looking haggard and anxious.

“U-unde…?” he manages to stammer before breaking into a coughing fit that reminds him of his killer headache.

“Can you try that in English?” Barbara asks kindly, “Leslie’s the only doctor here that speaks Romanian.”

Dick frowns; he thought he was speaking English. He tries again, “W-where are we?”

“At the clinic,” says Tim, “Which reminds me, we were supposed to page Leslie when you woke up.”

“Bruce?”

Tim glances over his shoulder, “Out in the hall talking to Jason and Alfred.”

That got Dick’s attention. “J-Jason…?”

Barbara and Tim share a look that frustratingly, Dick’s head is too wooly for him to understand. “What’s the last thing you remember?” Barbara asks finally.

Dick thinks. To be honest, he doesn’t remember much; only shadows and voices and pain-so much pain…

Barbara’s touch brings him back to his girlfriend and his brother.

“Not much,” he admits, “Jeff and I were investigating Granny Goodness’s house…then-well, I uh…”

“Granny tortured you and Jeff in her X-Pit,” Tim says patiently.

A lump drops into Dick’s throat, “Is Jeff…?”

“No,” Barbara says hurriedly, “Jeff is totally fine.”

“Pissed now that he knows about Batman Inc taking on the Light behind the Leauge’s back,” Tim adds, earning himself an elbow in the ribs from Barbara, “Ow!”

“But he’s fine,” Barbara insists, “You’re the only one that got sick.”

Dick wants to process all this information, but really, he’s too nauseous to think straight. Tim pushes a red button on the wall next to his bed. A moment later, Leslie is at his bedside, Bruce hovering by her shoulder.

“Dick,” Leslie greets him warmly, “Time for the million-dollar question: how are you feeling?”

“Cold,” he says honestly, he can’t stop shivering, “Cold ’n confused.”

Leslie lays a warm, small hand on his forehead, “well you do feel warm. Your body’s still fighting off the infection; a fever’s pretty natural.”

“Can he handle an infection after brain surgery?” Bruce asks urgently. With his hand that isn’t in a sling, Dick fists his scratchy, hospital sheets. Brain surgery?

“Your brain was swelling as a result of your ghost-dimension sickness,” Leslie explains gently, “Dr. Jace stopped the swelling temporarily with ice, but it wasn’t enough to stop it permanently. We placed a shunt to reduce the swelling.”

Dick tries swallowing, but his dry throat makes him cough, “We’re going after Granny, right?”

Barbara rolls her eyes, “Sure, mister ‘I just had brain surgery’ let me go fight the bad guys.”

Bruce awkwardly lays a hand on his good shoulder, “As soon as you were stable, the others left to join the Justice League’s assault,” he says, not unkindly. Dick sags against his pillows. He knows that his family is right; he’s struggling to talk; getting up, let alone fighting Granny Goodness, sounds like a challenge he isn’t up to facing. Granny Goodness could probably take him out by sneezing on him. It isn’t that he doesn’t trust his Team; they’re still the best of the best. He just…

“I-I wanted to fix this,” he says softly, “With Jeff, I-well, I can’t make up for anything while I’m in bed.”

“Dick,” Bruce sighs, “I promise you’re not the one Jeff’s mad at.”  
“He really helped us find you,” Tim explains, “After you thought Alfred was trying to attack you and dove out a window 50 stories up.”

Dick feels the mother of all headaches begin to pound with a fury behind his eyes. “I-I did what?” he says faintly.

Bruce gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze, “This is a lot of information to process. Barbara, Tim, why don’t you go and get us some food? Something that Dick can eat?”

With one last kiss on the cheek from Barbara and a sad smile from Tim, the two are gone. Leslie follows behind them, promising to come and check on Dick in an hour. Bruce steals Tim’s abandoned chair and pulls out a newspaper. They sit like that in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Dick notices that his foot, the one trapped in a thick layer of plaster, itches like crazy. He wiggles his leg, hoping that will fix it, but all he succeeds in doing is messing up the traction sling. White hot tendrils of pain flare up his foot to his pelvis and he groans. Bruce looks up sharply, sees the problem, chuckles, and fixes the sling before sitting back down.

“You never were one for sitting still.”

“Why aren’t you h-helping?” he breathes, “The J-the JL n-needs you.”

“Not more than you do,” Bruce says firmly, “Now are you going to get some rest, or do I have to sedate you?”

Dick remembers something that Tim had said earlier, “J’sn first,” he slurs because he really is very tired. But if Tim’s right and Jason really is there, Dick needs to see him for himself.

Bruce sighs and gets to his feet, “I’ll go get him.” His adoptive father disappears beyond Dick’s field of vision, only to reappear with a face that brings tears to Dick’s eyes.


	6. The Bat, the Hood and the Bird

Y.O.U.N.G J.U.S.T.I.C.E

  
Jason wants nothing less than to spend another moment in the same room as Bruce. He feels a twinge of pride in the fact that so far he’s refrained from screaming Why the fuck is the Joker still alive? at the man.

But that, along with avoiding the Batfamily for another year or two, will have to wait. Dick still needs him; once he knows Dick’s ok, then he’s gone faster than you can say Batman.

He enters Dick’s room and immediately has to fight back the urge to run off and kill Granny Goodness himself; Dick, the best person Jason knows, still looks terrible. Dick’s newly-bald head is wrapped tightly in white bandages. His arm hangs in a dark blue sling while his leg, covered in a blue and black plaster-cast (definitely Barbara’s idea), hangs in a traction sling above his bed.

Dick’s sunken eyes lay on his and immediately fill with tears.

  
“Jason,” Dick breathes from behind a nasal cannula.

  
Jason fidgets uncomfortably with the hem of his brown, leather jacket, “Hey, Dickface. It’s about time you recognized me.”

  
Dick reaches a shaking hand towards his little brother, “H-How?” Jason perches himself gingerly at Dick’s side, careful not to jostle him, and takes his hand.

  
“Ra’s,” he says simply, “I stayed with the League of Assassins for a year until your team fought us. It was actually the fight with you that sparked my memory. I left for Gotham a week later.”

  
Dick is openly crying now. Jason remembers Alfred saying in the hall that brain trauma can make people weepy; he hopes it isn’t permanent. Then again, his eyes are feeling a little wet too.

  
“S-saved me?” Dick asks him hopefully.

  
“Sure I did, goldielocks-,” Jason winces, making a mental note to take that nickname off the roster until Dick’s hair grows back, “I mean, sure I did, Big Bird. Who else would annoy me to tears with their sunshineyness if your ass got shanked?”

  
Bruce shoots him a stern look. Jason glares right back before refocusing on his brother. Dick’s eyes are drooping. Clearly, the effort to stay awake is too much for him.

  
“Go to sleep, Dickie-Bird,” Jason says kindly.

  
“B-but-,”

  
Jason gives him a gentle pat on his cheek, “I promise I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

  
This seems to be enough for Dick. With a sigh, his deep blue eyes close, and he sinks further into his pillows, finally asleep.

  
Out of the corner of his eye, Jason sees Bruce giving him a funny look. Frustratingly, ever since his dip in the Lazarus Pit, Jason’s lost his ability to read people, so he can’t tell what Bruce’s thinking.

  
“What?” he snaps.

  
Bruce bristles and briefly looks away before looking back at him with a smile, “It’s just good to have you back, Jason.”

  
“He’s gonna be ok,” Jason says decisively after a moment of silence, “…right?”

  
“Jay,” Bruce says warmly, “With a brother like you to look out for him, he’ll be just fine.”


	7. Onward and Upward

Y.O.U.N.G J.U.S.T.I.C.E

The original members of the team were victorious.

Sure, Artemis was looking a little pale from her brief stint under Granny’s mind control, but after Victor and Violet saved the day, the Team knew that their days of fighting meta-traffickers were over, hopefully for good this time. Finally, it was time to return to the clinic and see Dick and the rest of the Bat family.

Conner, Kaldur, M’Gann and Artemis, now back in civvies, trapsed behind a petite, mousey-haired woman in a lab coat through narrow, brightly lit hallways.

“The good news is he’s doing much better than he was when you left,” Dr. Leslie Thompkins said tiredly.

“And the bad news?” Artemis asked wearily while clutching a cold bottle of neon-blue gatorade. Having now experienced the X-Pit for herself, she was eager to make sure that Dick was going to be ok. After all, she was only under Granny’s influence for a few minutes and she still felt achy and dizzy; according to Barbara, Dick had suffered Granny’s torture for _hours._

Leslie sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “Brain surgery takes a lot out of a person. That, combined with how badly he broke his leg means he has at least a month or two of physical therapy ahead of him.”

Leslie’s party stopped at Dick’s door just as it swung open, revealing Barbara and Alfred. Barbara’s eyes widened at the sight of her friends, “It’s over?”

“Yes,” Kaldur said firmly, “Granny Goodness will not bother anyone anymore.”

Barbara raised an eyebrow but a pointed cough from Alfred quelled whatever it was that she wanted to say.

“Miss Barbara, your father was quite insistent on you returning home for the night,” said Alfred, “I am quite sure that our friends will not hesitate to contact us, should something happen to Master Dick.”

Barbara sighed, “Alright, alright, I’m going,” Alfred rose an eyebrow and Barbara had the grace to look sheepish, “Heheh sorry, Alfred, I meant I’m ready to go.”

Bidding Barbara and Alfred farwell, the team filed into Dick’s room. Bruce sat in a moth-eaten armchair in the corner, pretending to read a book in an attempt to give his sons some privacy. Tim and Jason sat in plastic chairs on either side of Dick’s bed. Dick looked more or less the same as he had when they’d left him, pale, wrapped in enough bandages to pass for a mummy, and still, unfortunately, bald. The three boys were focused intently on a movie playing on a laptop balanced precariously on Dick’s food tray.

“It’s a shame,” Artemis mused, three sets of bright blue eyes looking up at her, “You always had such good hair.”

Jason rose out of his seat, ready to defend his brother’s honor, only for Dick to hold out a hand to stop him.

“She’s just joking,” Dick said patiently.

“Oh,” Jason huffed, settling back down in his chair, “Never mind.”

“You ARE alive,” M’Gann said excitedly, “I’m so glad I didn’t imagine it.”

“Hey guys,” said Jason, “Wanna watch _Brother Bear_ with us?”

“It’s Dick’s favorite,” Tim added, flashing his best puppy-dog eyes at Artemis.

Artemis chuckled and ruffled his hair, “Sure thing, Timmy.”

Tim huffed indignantly, “What is with you people and touching my hair I swear to-oh, sorry Dick.”

“It’s ok,” Dick said in a hoarse voice, “Like you said; my hair grows fast.”

“How are you feeling?” Kaldur asked as they pulled up their own chairs that Leslie had dragged in while muttering about the injustice of doctors doing manual labor for ungrateful superheros.

“Like I got hit by a bus,” he grunted, then with a wince, “Make that, several buses. Now, tell me what happened with Granny.”

“There’s time for that later,” said Conner, “I thought we were watching a movie.”

“But-,” Dick tried to protest.

“Goldie, you heard the Kryptonian,” said Jason, “We’re watching a movie.”

M’Gann levitated the laptop over to a table against the far wall, then pulled the table closer until it was touching the foot of Dick’s bed.

“Dick, your foot’s in the way,” Tim whined.

“Deal with it,” Artemis snapped, sending Dick into a fit of laughter and coughing.

Kaldur smiled, “I am glad that we are all together and well again.”

“Not all of us,” Dick insisted, “Where’d Wally go? He was with you,” Dick’s face fell at the worried looks on his friends’ faces, “Wasn’t he?”

“M’Gann?” asked Tim. M’Gann, getting the hint, linked everyone in the room except Dick.

 _“The fever and Jason coming back from the dead is making him a little confused,”_ said Tim, shooting an apologetic look at Artemis.

Artemis smiled sadly. Of course she missed Wally, but that wasn’t important at the moment. Dick was sick and missing Wally and she knew just what to say to comfort her friend.

She put a hand on Dick’s good shoulder, “He had to go away for awhile; he promises he’ll come and visit once you’re set up at the manor again.”

Normally, the Team knew that Dick would question this lie immediately. Dick with a fever, however, was much more trusting.

“Oh, ok,” he said with a disappointed lilt in his gravelly voice.

“Wipe that stupid frown off your face,” Jason snapped, “It’s annoying. Frankly, you should be grateful I agreed to this cornfest of a movie and didn’t make us watch something more interesting.”

Tim snorted, “Isn’t your favorite movie _The Parent Trap_?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Jason scowled, “It’s a good movie.”

Bruce looked up from his book. The sight of Dick surrounded by his friends and brothers warmed his heart. Dick had a long road of recovery ahead of him, that was sure. When Two-Face had beaten him within an inch of his life, Bruce had sat by Dick’s bed, just as he was doing now, for weeks until he was able to walk again. It had been just the two of them and Alfred then. But Dick had grown up a lot in the past 11 years; he’d found friends, like him, who dedicated their lives to making the world a better place. Along the way, as Bruce had found more strays, Dick, the boy who lost his family as a child, had embraced Jason and Tim as his little brothers just as he’d embraced Bruce as his father. Bruce was sure that whatever dangers would try to rip Dick apart next time, his friends and his brothers would be there to put him back together.

At that moment, Conner said something funny and the young adults all burst into laughter. Dick made eye-contact with Bruce, and his smile widened. Bruce knew just what that look meant.

_“I’m ok now, and I love you.”_

Bruce grinned.

“By the way, Bruce,” Jason said gleefully, “Did you know you have an illegitimate son with Talia al Ghul?”

“Wait what-,”


End file.
